Taking off
by Tashilover
Summary: Silver meets a familiar face.


The pub was small, dingy, and reeked of something no man should ever find out what. The customers were shifty, the drinks bland, and the bar wenches were as ugly as they came. Silver loved it all.

He felt right at home. Oh sure, the alien in that corner was probably imagining his demise and that bar wench was going to rob him blind should he become drunk enough, but for the first time in months, he felt… like himself.

He is John Silver. Ruthless pirate. Avid treasure hunter. And on some worlds, gentle lover.

Silver knew he had a few bastard children in the years of his drifting. But the women he had relationships with also had men on the side, so Silver was never sure if the kid was really his or not. It didn't matter; it was not as if he planned any type of future with them.

He often thought of Jim Hawkins.

Silver growled into his purple drink and downed it in one gulp. He motioned for another and his little glass was filled immediately.

He didn't want to think of the boy. Not today, not now. That was in the past. No, what Silver needed to think about is his next treasure hunt. Where should he go? Where is his next big break? Was Jim happy?

The next drink was gone as quickly as it was ordered.

Silver stared down into his glass, feeling as empty. He felt cold. And he didn't know why. Perhaps it was because he didn't have Morph by his side. After all, that little pink blob has been by his side for the past three years. Silver never had a friend that had lasted (or stayed loyal) as long as Morph had.

A wench casually brushed his shoulder with a long green finger, wriggling her hips at him suggestively. Silver thought about it for a quick second. He then waved her off, ignoring her scowl of indignation.

He bewildered himself on that one. He hadn't been with a woman for almost a year now. What was wrong with him?

He quickly drowned his next drink. He thought about ordering another one but as he looked into his pouch he saw he had very little money. He could just easily decapitate the bartender and spend the rest of the night drinking freely, but even that small action seemed too much effort.

The door to the bar unexpectedly swung open, allowing a cold sharp wind to gust through. A human male closed the door behind him and quickly removed his hat and gloves. The man had a thick brown beard and large eyes. With a smirk to the other patrons who were throwing him annoyed looks, he announced, "Drinks are on me!"

Within that nano-second he became everyone's friend. Silver and everyone else in the bar raised their glasses in salute and downed their drinks. Orders were quickly called out.

"That's very kind of you," Silver said to the man as he flopped down to the stool next to him. "What's the special occasion?"

"Just brought in a huge load of dark crab," The man chuckled. "The money that the company paid me will keep me going for at least a year."

"You're a sailor?"

The man sported a proud grin. "That I am."

Silver hated sailors. They were money grubbing hounds who jumped from port to port, making promises then breaking them. Silver may be a murderous lying pirate, but at least he had honor.

Still…the man did just pay for the rest of the night's beer.

The man eyed Silver's prosthetic leg and arm, raising an eyebrow but asking nothing. "Something tells me you have plenty of stories to tell."

"Aye," Silver said into his glass. "That I do…but you lad," The cyborg grinned. "You bought the drinks. Let's hear about you."

The human shrugged, drinking deeply of his own orange alcoholic drink. "Nothing much to tell. I wanted to see the universe. And one day, I left it all behind to do just that. I haven't looked back since."

"No regrets?"

"Some," He shrugged. "But I knew if I stayed, I would have regretted my life even more." He ordered another drink, slapping down a handful of credits the bartender was more than happy to take. "And you my friend?" He motioned to the arm. "Any regrets?"

Silver laughed. "Never! That's what you and I have in common lad, we live each day as a new adventure. We go where the wind blows and see how far it takes us."

"Hear hear!" The sailor raised his glass in agreement.

"Still…" Silver said slowly. "I'm getting pretty old… Going on adventures, looking for treasure… makes a man wonder why he even bothers…"

Staring at the purple residue at the bottom of his glass made him think of Morph. In turn, Morph made him think of Jim. The boy had so much life in him, so much potential. And a small part of Silver wished he could stay to see it grow.

Everything else seemed so pointless now.

"What's your name?"

Silver raised his eyes off his drink. "Uh…Silver," He then cleared his throat, thrusting out his mechanical arm to shake his hand. "John Silver."

"Nice to meet you, fellow sailor John Silver," The man grinned. "I'm Gregory. Gregory Hawkins."

Silver slowed in his shaking. "Really…" He said. "Hawkins?"

"That's right," Gregory pulled away, smiling into his drink. "You've heard of my antics?"

"Perhaps…"

Nah…it couldn't be. It was way too much of a coincidence, no chance in hell he could be… the chances of him meeting were…

Silver's eye swiveled around erratically, taking in Gregory's nose, his eyes, his mouth and color of hair. In a digital recreation, he paired the man's facial features to the picture of a young teenage boy. Nose to nose, mouth to mouth, hair to hair. The only thing that didn't match were his eyes. Jim had his mother's eyes.

Anger boiled inside of him.

"So tell me something…" Silver spoke softly, swirling the residue of the liquid inside his glass around. "Do you have a wife? Any kids?"

Gregory threw back his head, chugging down another hard shot. His face was becoming red. "Heh, I tried the whole marriage thing for a while. And sure, it was nice at first…but then," He waved his hand. "It got too much."

Silver gripped his glass. "Any kids?"

Gregory laughed. "Oh my, you really _are _wondering, aren't ya? Kids? Sure…I got one. A boy."

His knuckles were turning white. "And you don't feel any regret for leaving them behind? For leaving your boy fatherless?"

Gregory's smile turned sour. "Eh? Why do you care? They're fine. My wife has a good job as a cook and I left them plenty of money. As for my son… well, Jim has always been a productive kid. He'll be fine."

The glass broke. Shards dug into Silver's hand but he didn't feel any pain. He stood, his special eye turning red with fury.

Gregory was staring at Silver's hand. "Hey, do you know you're bleeding?"

Silver grabbed him, prompting a surprised squeak out of the man, and hauled him to his feet before slamming him back down on the bar's front.

"Woah, hey, what are you doing-!"

"So you're the _taking off and never coming back _kind of father, eh?"

"What's it to you?" He was trying to pry off Silver's hands with little luck.

Silver shook him roughly, causing the drinks on the far end of the bar to rattle. "I have a problem you see…" He breathed. "I don't like it when people don't see the bigger picture. Do you understand, lad? You had a great treasure on your hands and you left it behind as if it was nothing but _trash!_"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your BOY!" Silver snarled, shaking him so violently he cracked his head against the wood. "You draft fool! Didn't you realize that boy has the potential to do great things? Greater than anything this universe has seen? And you traded him in for a measly couple of credits."

His mechanical eye caught sight of something shining and at the last moment, Silver let go and jumped back, narrowly missing the blade coming down upon his arm.

Gregory sat up, keeping the knife he pulled from his boot out towards Silver. He wiped the blood that trailed out from the corner of his mouth, staring menacingly at the cyborg. "Try that again, tomorrow you'll be getting a new eye."

Silver shrugged. "Ah, you see, that's the problem with sailors…" His arm suddenly shifted, revealing a beautiful crafted gun. "They always bring a knife to a gun fight."

The gun fired a startling range of reds and orange, striking Gregory straight in the chest. The man gave out a cry, throwing his hand back to catch himself. He missed, knocking over the glasses left on the bar and crumpled to the ground. He stilled.

Silver's eye gleamed crimson red, watching silently as the spilled alcohol trailed off the bar and onto the man's head. The eye swiveled again, returning to its neutral yellow color. He snorted.

"Heh. The drinks are on him!"

He laughed, throwing his hands up in the air as he addressed the rest of the pub. The frightened patrons slowly emerged from their hiding places and starting laughing along slowly, uncomfortably.

"Sorry about the mess," Silver said to the bartender as his hand returned to its normal state. He gave the corpse one last look, disgust pouring from his face. He turned away.

He felt a little better.

**The End.**


End file.
